


The Double Feature

by BradyGirl_12



Category: The Waltons (TV)
Genre: 1930s, Background Het, Background Relationships, Drama, F/M, Gen, Gen Work, Halloween, Holidays, Scary Movies, Slice of Life, gen - Freeform, movies - Freeform, snobbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-10-25 08:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20721404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: Professor Sarah Simmons takes John-Boy, Mary Ellen, and Jason to see the classic horror filmsDraculaandFrankensteinin Charlottesville.





	1. The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: For _Dracula (1931)_ and _Frankenstein (1931)_  
Original DW/LJ Dates Of Completion: September 19, October 6, 14, November 13, 24, 2018  
Original DW/LJ Dates Of Posting: September 21, October 5, 13, 26, November 2, 2019  
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Lorimar Productions does, more’s the pity.  
Original DW/LJ Word Count: 1014 + 1831 + 1646 + 1698 + 1314 (Total=7503)  
Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
Author’s Note: All chapters can be found [here.](https://bradygirl-12.dreamwidth.org/4740399.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John-Boy receives an invitation from Sarah Simmons.

_“Take your chances where you get ‘em.”_

  


**‘Boss’ Clayborn Tweedle  
** **1870 C.E.**  


****

****

****

****

_In the autumn of 1934, my sister Mary Ellen and my brother Jason and I would learn that even people from privileged backgrounds were just people. You just had to look beneath the fancy airs and, in some cases, snobbery._

_It had all started two weeks before Halloween with my meeting Professor Sarah Simmons._

& & & & & &

You meet all kinds of people at Ike Godsey’s store. I was there picking out some penny candy when the tiny bells jingled over the door as a visitor walked in. Ike and I were shootin’ the breeze as I contemplated the variety of drops and candies in the crystal jar.

“Hello, John.”

I turned and could feel my eyes light up. “Professor Simmons!”

“In the flesh.” She smiled at Ike. “Hello, Mr. Godsey.”

“Hello, Miss, um, Professor Simmons.”

Sarah Simmons was a Harvard professor in an era when female professors were rare outside of women’s colleges. She had come to the Blue Ridge last year to study our local folklore and had talked with many people. Grandpa was a favorite source of tales, tall and otherwise. She had returned to Boston but obviously had come back for a visit.

“You’re alone, John. I almost didn’t recognize you without a retinue of siblings trailing behind you.”

I grinned, as it was all too true. Ike laughed.

“That’s true, Miss Simmons. Is that Harvard talk?”

“Harvard talk?” asked Sarah with a smile.

“That there ‘retinue’.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose it is.” She seemed delighted at Ike’s comment. “I’d like some tonic and an apple, if you please.”

“Tonic?” Ike frowned. “The only hair tonic I have is for men.”

Sarah laughed. “I’m sorry, ‘tonic’ is the word for ‘pop’ up where I’m from.”

“Wow, that’s a new one,” I said.

Ike grinned. “Choose a bottle from the cooler.” He pointed to it by the doorway.

Sarah chose a Coke and a shiny, red apple from the barrel. She paid and walked outside with me.

The air was crisp and cool with some of the trees nice and colorful. Sarah gestured at a copse of shimmering gold aspen trees.

“Very pretty.”

“We like it, though I suppose it’s kind of tame compared to what you’re used to seeing this time of year.”

“That’s true. Colors are rather muted here.”

“So why are you down here?” I popped a peppermint candy into my mouth.

She smiled. She was real pretty. Her blond hair was stylishly short, and she wore a blue knit beret. Her Navy pea coat matched her pants, and she wore an orange pullover sweater and blue saddle shoes. The pants were unusual, but then, Sarah Simmons was an unusual woman.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. How would you like to see a double feature in Charlottesville?”

“I’m always up for the movies. We going to see _The Thin Man_ or a Western? I don’t think Momma and Daddy would allow us to see gangster pictures.”

Sarah’s smile turned rueful. “How do they feel about horror pictures?”

“Huh?”

“I’m talking _Dracula_ and _Frankenstein_.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“Universal is re-releasing both 1931 flicks for Halloween Week. Since Halloween’s on a Wednesday this year, the movies will be shown starting Friday, October 26th, and end on Sunday, November 4th. Charlottesville’s _Bijou_ is running both.”

“Gee, Professor, I’d love to go, but I don’t think my parents would let me.”

“You let me worry about that. Now do you think your sister Mary Ellen would be interested? Check that, I know she would, because she’s one tough cookie.”

“She’s not afraid of anything, that’s sure enough right.”

Sarah’s blue eyes sparkled. “Now, what about Jason? He’s pretty sensitive.”

“He is.” I offered Sarah a peppermint. She accepted and we continued ambling down the road. “But he’s a lot stronger than you’d think.”

“Good. Listen, you ask them if they want to go. Better to know for sure if they do before I make my pitch. Oh, and I left out Erin and Ben because they’re too young. These movies are pretty intense.”

“Because they’re about a vampire and monster?”

“They’re about the undead and a creature stitched together with corpses’ body parts, so, yeah, pretty intense.”

I swallowed hard. I’d heard that the movies were so disturbing that women had fainted, especially when they got their first glimpse of the Frankenstein Monster, played by Boris Karloff.

“You’ve read both novels that inspired the films. It’s a great chance for you to tell the difference between film and literary works.”

“I’d really like that chance.”

“Good. And your brother and sister can bring fresh eyes to the material since they haven’t read the books. When would be the best time to drop by tomorrow?”

“How about lunchtime? Daddy will come in for lunch from the sawmill and Grandpa should be around, too. Momma and Grandma will be there, of course.”

“Your grandfather will be an ally, I’m sure.”

“He thinks you’re the cat’s pajamas.” At Sarah’s laugh, I added, “Corny, but that was the slang back in Grandpa’s day.”

“He’s a doll. Okay, I plan on taking you into Charlottesville this Friday so it won’t be a school night. And some of my students from my English Lit class will be with me.”

“Oh, okay.”

Sarah smiled gently. “Don’t worry, John, college students don’t bite. They’re down here helping me with a continuation of my folklore project this week. They also take my American Lit class.”

“Well, sure. How’s that project going?”

“Very well. Crosses over quite nicely into m American History course. Your family has been a big help.”

“Good to hear. Come by around noon. Daddy and Grandpa will just about be finishing eating by then. You can catch them well-fed and happy.”

Sarah laughed. “Tell them I’ll be by then.” She squeezed my arm. “I’ll do my best.” She waved and turned back to Ike’s to pick up her car.

Now I had to scheme a way to be home for lunch tomorrow.


	2. The Meeting

_“Everything around here is a summit meeting.”_

****

**Ronald Morton**  
**_“The Career Of_**  
**_Mr. Proper Parker”_**  
**1921 C.E.**

I managed a good excuse. While the kids stayed at school, I brought home a cake Miss Rosemary had baked, using a recipe Momma had given her. I gave Ben my brown bag lunch to divide up among our siblings and enjoyed a tasty lunch of pork sandwiches with baked potatoes and corn at the kitchen table with everyone. The potatoes were small and from our garden like the corn, but hot out of the oven with melted butter.

Sarah had showed up in time for sharing our meal, and she chatted about life on campus and the latest _Red Sox_ baseball season.

“We’ve got new ownership, so I expect great things.”

“I’ve seen pictures of Fenway Park,” Grandpa said. “That left field wall is a curiosity.”

“When the park was first built in 1912, it was a steep hill known as Duffy’s Cliff.”

“Named for…?” Daddy asked as he accepted a bowl of corn from Momma.

“Duffy Lewis, who mastered the 10-foot incline while playing left field. Mr. Yawkey, the club’s new owner, is doing a major renovation of the park.”

“Not a bad idea. How old is the park?”

“Twenty-two. Their Grand Opening was pushed off the front pages by the _Titanic.”_

“Oh, my!” said Grandpa.

Sarah kept up light chatter and when lunch was done, helped clear the table. The dishes were left to soak in the sink as we all retired to the living room.

As a writer, I was taking more note of things, including women’s clothing.

Sarah had shown up in a dark-red pleated skirt and blazer and the knitted beret was close to the same color. She wore a burnt-orange pullover sweater over a pale yellow shirt. Instead of hose, she was sporting pale yellow knee socks and red loafers. She looked like a college professor, all right, and was still quirky enough to be herself.

I knew that Momma and Grandma didn’t approve of her pants, so she had decided not to wear them today. Clever.

“So, Sarah, what project can we help you with today?” Daddy asked.

“Broadening an aspiring writer’s horizons,” she answered, sweeping her arm out dramatically. Sunlight hit her gold-plated bracelet and winked real pretty.

I know that Grandpa was charmed. From the time Professor Sarah Simmons had shown up on our doorstep, he’d taken a shine to her. She’d been looking to find folktales here on the Blue Ridge, and Zebulon Walton was a prime source.

“And how would that go?” he asked.

“I’d like your permission, Mr. and Mrs. Walton, to take John, Mary Ellen and Jason into Charlottesville this Friday to see _Dracula_ and _Frankenstein_ at the _Bijou Theater_.”

Surprise showed on everyone’s faces, but Momma’s expression was the first to solidify into a negative one.

“Those horror movies? I don’t think so.”

Sarah leaned forward on the couch. “Hear me out, please, Mrs. Walton. I don’t make this request lightly.”

Momma sat in Daddy’s favorite chair while he sat on the chair arm. Grandpa was in Momma’s favorite chair and Grandma in her rocker, already disapproving. I was standing near the desk and leaning against the wall with my hands in my pockets.

Sarah’s earnestness certainly helped sell her pitch. Her charm bracelet jingled lightly as she gestured.

“John is a very bright student. I want him to see the difference between literary works and their film adaptations. As a writer, that knowledge could be invaluable.”

I felt a little uncomfortable. My parents knew that Sarah had loaned me some books, but I didn’t mention what they were. They probably assumed they were textbooks, not horror novels.

“But horror?” asked Momma. “Couldn’t you have picked something else?”

“Well, I’m only here for a short time before returning to Boston, and these films are being featured at the Bijou. It’s all perfect timing.”

My father spoke up for the first time. “Professor, are you sure about these films?”

“I’ve seen them before, Mr. Walton, when they were first released three years ago. The novels they ‘re adapted from are literary classics. Bram Stoker’s _Dracula_ built on Poe classics like _The Fall Of The House Of Usher_ and brought in a new form of Gothic storytelling. Ushered in, you might say.” She smiled charmingly. Grandpa was responding, that was for sure. “And as for _Frankenstein?_ It was written decades before and published in 1818 and by a woman, no less, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, the wife of Percy Bysshe Shelley, one of England’s premier poets.”

Sarah was really getting enthusiastic about the subject now. Whether my parents understood that energy or not, she was being genuine about it. I could hear the rocker creaking at a fast pace and knew that Grandma was agitated.

“I would not bring your children to a movie with no redeeming qualities. These are high-quality A-list works, not B-movies.”

Grandpa slapped his knee. “Of course not! You are a professional woman, Professor, and your opinion holds weight. What about it, John? Livvie?”

Momma was still unconvinced. “Why do you want to bring Mary Ellen and Jason if this is for a writer like John-Boy?”

“The music used in these films would be of interest to Jason, and as for Mary Ellen, a girl should have the same opportunities as her brothers.”

I was hoping that last point would score points with Momma, but you can never tell. Sometimes she’s all progressive with female rights and other times, no soap.

Momma looked at Daddy, and I could see that he was wavering. He wasn’t much for classical literature himself. Give him a good Zane Grey or Lone Ranger novel and he was happy, but he respected education. 

I could hear the ticking of our grandfather clock. I was feelin’ edgy as I would have to be goin’ back to school soon. I stayed motionless as clearly, Momma and Daddy were silently discussing this. I had wanted to go before, but now with the possibility of being denied the chance, I wanted it more than ever.

The clock sounded even louder than ever. I hoped a decision was coming soon. The silence was crushing, like my soul.

Huh, now there was a good writer’s sentence!

Sarah was patient, but as the silence stretched out, she began to look uncomfortable. By now I was getting a little agitated. Didn’t they trust Sarah? She was sincere in her assurances. I wondered if I should speak up.

Grandpa beat me to it. “Livvie, John, I think the professor here is being honest with you. She will take care of our young’uns, and this isn’t exactly the big city. They’ll all be safe and be a little more educated when they get back.”

_Yes! Tell it, Grandpa!_

Grandma’s gravelly voice cut through the air like a whip. “I think you’d be crazy to let them go.”

I could feel all the air leave me like a popped balloon. Leave it to Grandma to queer the deal. My frustration and disappointment made me feel like I was going to explode.

My father was the one who spoke. “Okay, we give our permission. We trust you’ll keep our children safe, Professor.”

“Oh, I will. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Walton.”

She stood and shook their hands and smiled at Grandpa, who rose from his chair and said, “I’ll escort you out.”

“Time for you to get back to school, young man,” Momma said. 

“I can give you a lift,” Sarah said.

“That’s okay,” Daddy said.

Out on the porch, Grandpa took one of Sarah’s hands in both of his and patted her hand. “Don’t you worry about them changin’ their minds. I’ll see to it things stay the same.” 

“Why, thank you, Zeb.” Sarah smiled. “How can I ever thank you for all your help?”

A glint came into my grandfather’s eye. He chuckled and patted her hand again, lingering a little with his touch. “Just lend me those books you loaned John-Boy. I’d like to read Stoker and Shelley.” He laughed as my jaw dropped.

“Certainly, Zeb.” Sarah squeezed his hand and extricated herself gracefully from his grasp. “Time to get you back to school, John.”

Grandpa asked, “You takin’ everyone out after the movies?”

“Yes, I’d thought of it.”

“Go ahead; I’ll square it inside.”

Sarah bestowed a dazzling smile on Grandpa, who waved happily as she and I drove off in her red roadster. 

“Your grandfather is delightful, John.”

“Figures he knew the novels you’d given me.”

“He’s a sharp old bird.” She smiled at me. “Glad you can go. The material is mature, but you can handle it. And I assume if you felt your brother and sister couldn’t, you would have said something by now.”

I felt a little nervous. “Well, I trust you.”

“Good. There isn’t any gore. Dracula’s seduction of Renfield is mostly off-screen, and his attacks on Mina aren’t really shown, at least not in detail. And you’ve seen pictures of the Frankenstein Monster, right?” I nodded. “Good. Some people were really affected by their first view of the creature. The make-up is extraordinary.”

We reached the school and I said, “I can’t wait. See you Friday.” I got out of the car.

“You bet. I’ll be here around five.” She waved and drove off.

Lunch recess was over, so I hurried through the deserted schoolyard. I was able to slip in just as everyone was settling into their seats. Mary Ellen and Jason looked at me hopefully and I smiled, giving the OK sign. They grinned happily and lessons resumed.

& & & & & &

On the walk home after school, the three of us walked behind the other kids, who were chattering about something that had happened during lunch recess.

“I can’t believe it. Momma and Daddy actually said yes?” Mary Ellen asked as she kicked a stone down the dirt road.

“It was touch-and-go for awhile there,” I admitted.

“Well, I’m glad they did,” Jason said. He frowned. “How are we supposed to dress, John-Boy?”

“I guess not Sunday best, but a cut above overalls. Maybe you and me wear white shirts and our corduroy pants. Sorry, Mary Ellen, a dress for you.”

She kicked another stone. “Sarah wears pants.”

“Yeah, but your only pants are overalls. We’re goin’ out with Harvard college students, y’know. No hicks from the sticks.”

Mary Ellen made a face but she didn’t argue any more. Instead she nodded toward our siblings.

“They’re gonna put up a fuss when they hear we’re goin’, ‘specially Erin and Ben.”

“They will, but Sarah judges they’re too young,” I said.

She snorted. “You think they’ll care about that?”

“They better. Sarah’s a Harvard professor!”

“Still won’t matter to them.”

“It’ll have to matter.” I shrugged.

“Momma and Daddy got good sense. They won’t let ‘em pitch much of a fit.” Jason sounded confident as he trudged along.

I sure hoped he was right.


	3. The Theater

_“Country meets city, but never the twain shall meet.”_

  


**Will Never**  
**American Comedian**  
**1931 C.E.**

  
Dusk was falling rapidly as Mary Ellen, Jason and I waited out on the front porch for Sarah to pick us up. We had coats on and shuffled our feet to keep warm. Mary Ellen had grumbled about wearing a dress but she’d chosen a blue print with a white Peter Pan collar that looked pretty on her. Jason and I wore crisp, white shirts and our good pants. Not quite church-best, but hopefully fittin’. 

“Well, was I right?”

I looked at Mary Ellen. She was smirking as the toe of her saddle shoe scuffed the porch.

“Yes, Smartypants.”

Jason chuckled. “Ben sure pitched a fit.”

“Erin wasn’t so bad herself.” Mary Ellen almost looked proud of her sister.

“Best we wait out here,” Jason said.

Mary Ellen and I nodded in agreement.

The moon was about three-quarters full, which was good for a week before Halloween. There were clouds scudding across the sky, but they didn’t look like rain clouds.

“Good thing Grandpa smoothed things over about us going out after the movies,” Mary Ellen said.

“Yeah, now we can nosh on ice cream sodas,” Jason laughed.

I liked the sound of that. Behind the glow of the shades in the living room, I could see shadowed silhouettes moving around. No one except Grandpa approved of this outing. Grandma was especially livid. She distrusted Hollywood in general, and horror movies were the worst of a bad lot, in her opinion.

“They’ve got questionable films like that _One Night_ thing with an unmarried couple sharing a cabin!” she had said as she’d made her case after Sarah had left.

“But they did have the Wall of Jericho,” Grandpa pointed out with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Blasphemy! And that Clark Whatsis had no undershirt!”

“What are you smilin’ about?” Mary Ellen asked.

“Huh?”

“You.” She nudged my foot with her shoe. “What are you smilin’ about?” A sly look came into her eyes. “Grandma’s rantings?”

I pointed a finger at her. “Watch your mouth, sister dear.”

She smirked.

Headlights caught our attention. Sarah drove up in her convertible roadster and waved. 

“Hello, Waltons!”

“Hi, Sarah.” Mary Ellen hopped into the front seat. “Where’s your students?”

“They’ll meet us in Charlottesville. This is a roomy car, but eight people would be a tight squeeze. Get in, boys.”

Jason and I got into the back seat. I could hear the screen door squeak.

“All set for a Halloween adventure?” Sarah asked jovially.

“Yes!” we all shouted.

Sarah took off but didn’t peel rubber, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want anyone in the house to think she was a reckless driver. I looked back and saw Grandpa watching us and waved to him and got a wave back with a big smile.

We bounced along the country roads while the night air was a little chilly. Sarah was wearing a rust-gold knit cloche and matching cardigan sweater over a leaf print dress that was red, yellow and orange. A gold charm bracelet jangled at her wrist.

“That’s pretty,” Mary Ellen said of the bracelet.

“Thank you.”

Mary Ellen took a close look. “It’s all sports stuff!”

“That’s right. I’ve got a baseball, football, hockey stick, basketball, golf club, soccer ball, and badminton racket.”

“Not a tennis racket?” I asked curiously.

“You could call it that. I play both but prefer badminton.”

“Do you play the other sports, too?” Jason asked.

“Not all, but some.” Sarah slowed down as the road grew more rutted. “Not only men should play sports. It’s good to be healthy for both sexes.” 

The word ‘sexes’ was a little titillating. We didn’t use language like that at home.

Suddenly I was worried. We were going to meet sophisticated Harvard and Vassar students. We really were country bumpkins compared to them.

I looked at Sarah and relaxed. She would make sure everything was all right.

& & & & & &

On a Friday night, even a sleepy burg like Charlottesville was jumpin’. Sarah found a good parking space only a few blocks from the theater. We walked briskly and she waved to a group waiting by the movie posters.

“Hi, guys.” Sarah introduced us and then made the introductions of her students.

Evelyn Bradford was a short brunette who wore a burgundy cloche and matching coat and pleated skirt. She wore a white silk blouse and ruby brooch at the frilled collar. She gave us a nod and glanced at the other girl in the group.

Zarabeth Hanover was a cool cookie. Her brown hair was fashionably short, like Evelyn’s. Her cloche was white with a brown band and her coat was brown leather, which looked to be high quality. She wore a tailored white shirt and a pair of brown trousers with brown hiking boots, and looked bored. 

Robert Cavendish was a husky blond dressed in gray slacks and blue suspenders over a crisp white shirt. His black loafers were shiny with gray socks. He slipped on a smart gray coat and nodded pleasantly to us.

Randall White was taller than Robert, his silky black hair slicked back with pomade. His stance was very casual as he stood behind Zarabeth, who was sitting on a bench by the wall. His suit was dark-blue and very well-tailored with black oxfords and a white shirt. Robert held a gray newsboy cap while Randall wore a jaunty dark-blue fedora. His dark eyes regarded us coolly. I was acutely aware that all their clothes were expensive and suddenly felt shabby.

“Zarabeth?” Mary Ellen cocked her head.

“Yes. I like to be a little different.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks, kid.”

The students were amused and I had to wonder if they were making fun of my sister.

“C’mon, let’s go in. I want to hit the snack bar,” said Sarah. She went to the box office and ordered eight tickets. 

I was a little nervous about this. Sarah had assured me that she was taking care of expenses, which was good, because my siblings and I didn’t have much money on us.

We waited in the concession line and the students paid for their snacks. Sarah smiled and said, “You’re our guests. What’ll you have?”

Mary Ellen said, “Jujubes and Good ‘N’ Plenty.”

“Popcorn for me,” said Jason.

“Same for me.” I added Raisinets.

“Cokes all around?” Sarah asked. We all nodded yes.

The theater had seen better days, but it wasn’t too surprising, considering that we were stuck in a Depression. A big one.

Zarabeth said, “I thought I read that movie theaters were one of the few things doing well theses days. The place needs a renovation.”

“Well,” I said, disliking her tone, “Charlottesville isn’t exactly Boston. They don’t get enough customers to have enough money to fix this place up.”

“The crowd’s good tonight,” Mary Ellen said as she popped a Good ‘N’ Plenty in her mouth.

“Yeah, they might get a full house tonight.”

Despite the larger-than-normal crowd, we got good seats, in the middle and almost three-quarters down the aisle. I was surprised that it might be a sell-out. Our part of the country was not known for being movie enthusiasts. There’s a streak of Bible Belt here, and very religious people usually don’t approve of Hollywood, and definitely not horror movies. 

We all settled in and watched a _Merrie Melodies_ cartoon, enjoying the nuttiness. We chuckled and even Zarabeth cracked a smile.

The next feature was a Three Stooges short, _Men In Black_. I was sitting next to Sarah and Jason was on my left side. Mary Ellen insisted on sitting on the end so she sat next to Jason. All of Sarah’s students were sitting to Sarah’s right.

The Three Stooges were a new comedy team, and Sarah whispered to me, “They’re spoofing _Men In White_ pretty good.” 

I had to take her word for it. I hadn’t seen the movie. I knew Clark Gable was in it, because I’d read a review in the newspaper. Gable had hit stardom in _It Happened One Night_ and was capitalizing on it. All the girls were ga-ga over Gable.

The _Movietone News_ was next. We saw some shots of the Capitol in Washington, D.C., and President Roosevelt was shown speaking about the latest New Deal push. Next they cut to his wife’s latest jaunt.

_“Now we see Mrs. Roosevelt at a square dance in Wheeling, West Virginia, enjoying the party with the local residents.”_

“Go, Eleanor,” said Sarah. She chomped on some popcorn.

“She sure is different.”

“She’s groundbreaking.” Sarah took a sip of Coke. “First Lady will never be the same again.”

“Not sure the Presidency will ever be the same again, either.”

“Good observation. You’d do well in PolySci class.”

I wasn’t sure what that was but felt proud all the same. I’d study on it for awhile.

_Movietone_ switched to international news. There were plenty of shots of Germans _sieg heiling._ Germans made good visuals, I guess.

It was kind of weird to see all those people doing and saying the same thing. Over here you’d be lucky to get a consensus on anything, but over there everyone got all excited to hear Hitler speak. FDR never shouted, and he preferred what he called Fireside Chats on the radio to big stadiums full of screaming people. The only time he played to a raucous crowd at the level of a Nuremberg rally was during a campaign. 

Thankfully, the _News_ moved on to London. There were shots of Buckingham Palace and the King, and I started to get restless for Dracula to start.

The Coming Attractions were more interesting. I recognized Joan Blondell and some other stars but didn’t get too invested, since it was unlikely I’d see any of these pictures.

Finally, _Dracula_ was about to begin.


	4. The Vampire And The Monster

_“The dark archetypes are always with us.”_

  


**Professor L. Richard Standish**  
**American Literature Department**  
**Harvard University**  
**1914 C.E.**

  


I have to admit; it was great opening music. It set the mood of _Dracula_ right away: eerie and menacing with a touch of the exotic.

I sneaked a glance at Jason. He was utterly rapt, a phrase I loved to use when I could. He’d be paying attention to the musical cues, because Jason was a good student. 

Mary Ellen? She chomped away on her JuJubes.

The film was very dark and spooky. It gave me the creeps, just like a good horror movie should. Jason was mesmerized (another good word) but Mary Ellen seemed pretty blasé. You’re never quite sure with her, though. She could be scared stiff behind that façade.

Façade’s a good word, isn’t it? I like picking up new words. Miss Hunter gave me a Word-A-Day calendar, and that was today’s word.

It sure had good creepy stuff. The movie, not the calendar. Rats and coffins and poor Renfield eating bugs. I don’t think I’ll mention that scene to Momma and Daddy.

The three female vampires were even creepier than Dracula. They didn’t speak, just glided along wearing their white wispy gowns.

Van Helsing was a good character. This guy was no quitter. He would get Dracula if it killed him.

When the movie ended, Van Helsing had triumphed. Dracula was dust, and Mina Harker was saved. It had been a close call, but even vampires don’t always win.

The lights came on after the credits ended. “Intermission time, fellas,” Sarah said cheerfully.

We all filed outside (after a side trip to the bathroom), getting some fresh air. Other patrons were doing the same thing. Zarabeth lit up a cigarette and looked bored.

“So what did you think?” Sarah asked.

“Kinda Gothic,” Robert said.

“Yeah, a little German expressionist,” Randall added.

“Kind of hokey,” Zarabeth said.

“What did you think, Waltons?” Sarah rummaged in her purse.

“The music fits perfectly,” Jason said. “Very haunting and melancholy.”

“Good points.” Sarah took out her change purse.

“It stuck closely to the novel,” I said.

“Again, good point.”

“Bela Lugosi has the stare down,” said Mary Ellen.

“I’ll agree with that,” Randall said.

“But is the performance too over-the-top?” asked Evelyn.

“Well, compare it to _Nosferatu_. Count Orlock was a creepy-looking creature. Count Dracula is suave and sophisticated. You have to emphasize the mesmerization.” Randall tipped his fedora over his eyes.

“But _Nosferatu_ was an unauthorized adaptation of the novel. The Count wasn’t even named Dracula.”

“That’s because they couldn’t get the rights from Bram Stoker’s widow,” Robert interjected.

“I’m going in to get snacks for the second movie,” Sarah said to me. “You guys want anything?”

“No, we want to eat after the movie.” Jason and Mary Ellen nodded with my statement.

“Cokes all around them?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Sarah disappeared inside the theater. Zarabeth and Randall immediately lit up cigarettes. Zarabeth offered us her box of Lucky Strikes. Jason and I declined, exchanging rolled eyes when Mary Ellen took one, accepting a light from Randall. She took a long drag and let the smoke out. 

“So any other observations?” Zarabeth asked Mary Ellen.

My sister looked thoughtful, taking another drag. “Renfield sure got the short end of the stick.”

Zarabeth smirked and exchanged a look I didn’t like with Randall. “Yeah, he needed a little more seduction by the Count, didn’t he?”

I got a quivery feeling in my stomach. This was a subject never spoken of among good Baptists. I was afraid that Zarabeth was setting Mary Ellen up for ridicule. She wouldn’t have the first clue what Zarabeth was implying.

Mary Ellen shrugged. “I’d say he did plenty of seduction on Renfield. The guy was nuts about him.”

A glint of respect came into Zarabeth’s hazel eyes. “Okay, kid. You might have something there.”

I looked at Jason, wondering if he was confused. Talk about inversion wasn’t exactly common up on the Mountain. He looked back at me and shrugged helplessly, as if to say, _You know Mary Ellen._

He surprised me as much as Mary Ellen. Since when did those two know anything about homosexuals? Smoking and homosexual talk. Lordy, if Momma and Daddy could see us now!

“Thanks.” Mary Ellen tapped her cigarette ashes into the gutter. “Dracula knew his business. He knew how to pick his victims, too. Mina was such a sniveling swooner.”

Zarabeth grimaced. “Tell me about it. There are so many damsels-in-distress in the movies.”

“Sickening, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” Zarabeth flicked her cigarette onto the sidewalk and crushed it underneath the heel of her boot. “Well, time for _Frankenstein_. Written by a woman, incidentally.”

Mary Ellen copied her with her cigarette disposal. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.” Zarabeth slung her arm around Mary Ellen’s shoulder. “We’ll see how Hollywood mucked it up.”

Mary Ellen smirked and went with the students inside. Robert hung back as Jason joined the tail end of the group.

“So, don’t worry about anything said by my cohorts-in-crime. Just because they go to Harvard and Vassar, they think they know everything. Snobs, every one of ‘em!” He grinned and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks, Robert.”

“Bob.”

“Okay, Bob.”

We walked toward the theater. He could be shinin’ me on, but I decided to just enjoy the movie. And he did seem like a nice enough guy.

“Huh,” he said.

“What?”

“Just wondering how it felt to be outside the _Biograph Theater_ in Chicago last July. Steaming-hot coming out of cool refrigeration, and suddenly Federal agents popping up.”

“For Dillinger.”

“For Dillinger.”

“Must’ve been quite a sight to behold.” I looked up-and-down the street. “Don’t see any Feds.” 

Bob guffawed. “Me, neither.”

We managed to get into our seats before the movie started. Sarah handed me my Coke.

“Thanks.”

She nodded and sipped her own drink. The lights began to lower and the curtains drew back to reveal the screen.

It was a creepy enough opening, with two guys grave-robbing. The scene was set with a dark night and furtive whispers. Turned out the two guys were Dr. Frankenstein and his helper, Fritz.

I was transfixed as the story unfolded. The pivotal scene with Fritz dropping one brain and picking a criminal’s brain in the college lab signaled trouble ahead. The Monster with a criminal’s brain? Watch out, world!

The scene that featured Dr. Frankenstein’s lab was great. The set was a top-notch design, and the electrical effects really sold it. Ol’ Doc Frankenstein was maniacal and jittery and really built up the suspense.

I sipped my Coke as the table holding the sewn-together body was lifted up to an opening in the ceiling while a thunderstorm raged. The electrical current went wild and it seemed to crackle in the theater. No one talked or left their seats. A few people coughed, but for a packed house it was pretty quiet.

The table was lowered. The body was covered with a sheet, but its hand was exposed. There was stitching at the wrist.

When the hand moved, I nearly jumped. There was uneasy rustling around the theater.

_“It’s alive! It’s alive!”_ shouted Frankenstein. He ranted about God and said, _“Now I know what it means to **be** God!”_

I felt a strange little shiver. Oh, Momma and Grandma would have something to say about _that_ line!

I tried not to think about any of that. One wrong misstep, and no more Professor Simmons allowed to come around anymore. I took another swig of Coke.

A few minutes later, we got our first sight of the Monster. We could hear shuffling in the shadows on the screen and anticipation ran high. I could hear nervous coughs and people shifting in their seats. Even if they’d already seen pictures of the Monster, it was still different to see him on-screen instead of a still picture. We all held our breath.

Gasps blew out from the audience. The Monster was pretty creepy. The sight of it hit me, right in the gut. The make-up was outstanding. The Monster’s cheeks were sunken and his head was flat and misshapen. A jagged scar went from the hairline nearly to his eye. Tiny bolts anchored his neck. He really was terrifying, a pale ghost with dull eyes.

Jason’s attention was riveted to the screen, and even Mary Ellen kept her eyes on the scene playing out. Fleetingly, I wondered if the jaded college students were as absorbed. Sarah was avidly watching the screen.

The story really hit me in the gut, too. This awful creature was drawn to simple things like sunlight, but it was unpredictable, killing Fritz, but the guy had been tormenting him. The Monster earned its name, but no one had taught him anything. He was new to the world and dragging a lot of baggage, as the saying went.

The scene between the Monster and the little girl was sweet until disaster struck. I felt chilled. There was dead silence in the theater as the Monster threw the little girl into the lake, thinking that she would float like the flowers she had thrown in. Her screams echoed in the suddenly-cold theater.

The villagers got out the torches and pitchforks and the hunt was on. The Monster went on a rampage against his creator. Someone in the audience got up and left, but everyone else stayed. The end of the Monster was pretty dramatic. Fiery, in fact. 

The lights came up and people blinked, slowly getting out of their seats. It was hard to adjust to the real world. My group did the same and we shuffled through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk. The stars were bright.

“Well, ladies and gents, who’s up for ice cream?” asked Sarah.

“Sounds good to me,” Jason said cheerfully.

The college students tried to look aloof but Bob winked at me. I said, “I’ll second that.”

“Good. This way.”

It was colder now, a gust of wind swirling down the street. As I followed the professor and her group, I felt a chill that wasn’t because of the wind.


	5. The Ice Cream Parlor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moviegoers discuss what they have just seen.

_“The movies **must** be discussed!”_

  


**Friedrich von Heindorff**  
**Hollywood Director**  
**January 29, 1934**

  
We ordered ice cream sundaes and while waiting, Sarah asked, “All right, who’s got an opinion on our illustrious double feature?”

“A creature feature,” Bob said cheerfully.

His friends groaned and Sarah laughed. “So, Bob?”

“Well, despite the changes from the novels, the stories worked. Both films evoked a chilling atmosphere.”

“The Monster’s make-up was exceptional,” said Evelyn.

“Definitely. That made the picture, along with Karloff’s performance,” said Zarabeth.

“Chilling,” Evelyn said with a little shudder.

“I felt kinda sorry for the Monster,” Mary Ellen piped up. Everyone looked at her. “Well, I did.”

“Interesting. Why do you say that, Mary Ellen?” asked Sarah.

Mary Ellen took a bite of her hot fudge sundae. “He didn’t ask to be sewn together from dead bodies and come to life. That was crazy Doc Frankenstein’s idea.”

“But he killed,” said Randall.

“Yeah, because he was given a murderer’s brain. He didn’t set out to kill that little girl. He thought she’d float.”

“That didn’t make him any less dangerous,” Evelyn insisted.

“I suppose.” Mary Ellen took another bite. “But he didn’t even know what sunlight was.”

“So how does the Monster differ from Dracula?” asked Sarah.

“Ol’ Drac knew exactly what he was doing,” Bob quipped.

“No doubt, no doubt,” said Randall. He lightly jabbed Bob in the ribs. 

Bob smirked. “The Count’s been around for centuries. He’s a little older than the Monster.”

“Just a tad,” Zarabeth agreed. She swirled butterscotch topping on her sundae with her spoon.

“So did the films work as effective horror?” asked Sarah.

“I’ll say,” said Jason, and we all laughed.

“Pretty shocking when Frankenstein first appears on-screen,” I said.

“Very effective,” Sarah agreed.

Mary Ellen took her last bite of ice cream and put the spoon down with a clatter on the plate holding the sundae bowl. “Is it true that some women fainted at the sight of the Monster in some theaters?”

“So they say. Typical of the weaker sex,” Randall said smugly.

Both Mary Ellen and Zarabeth snorted at the same time. Zarabeth also jabbed Randall in the ribs, hard enough for him to yell, “Ow!” and rub his side.

Sarah, Mary Ellen, Jason and I were in a booth while the students sat at a table right next to us. The ice cream parlor was noisy with people coming from the Bijou.

Our discussion grew livelier, and I wondered if we’d get quizzed at home about the movies. I realized that my siblings and I would have to talk about this. Telling all the details probably wouldn’t be the best idea, though.

“So, Jason, what was your opinion of the music?” Sarah asked.

“Very well done. It sounded old, if that makes sense, for Dracula, and more modern for Frankenstein.”

“Now that’s pretty insightful.”

Jason blushed a little at the praise. I knew that Sarah was sincere. She looked at Jason with new respect.

“I thought the sets contributed to the general atmosphere of both movies,” said Evelyn. “The crypt which contained Dracula’s coffin really set the tone.”

“Like Frankenstein’s lab,” added Bob.

“Oh, wasn’t that creepy!” Evelyn shuddered.

“I half-expected to see rats,” laughed Bob.

“Weren’t those armadillos in the crypt?” Zarabeth asked.

“Looked like.”

Sarah looked at her sundae. She took the last bite and said, “Sounds like you all had a good time, if a creepy one.”

There was general agreement as everyone finished their sundaes and continued chattering as we left the ice cream parlor.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow so we can head back to Boston,” said Sarah to her students.

“See ya, Prof!” said Bob cheerfully. He waved and the four students headed for Randall’s car.

“Well, Waltons, let’s get you home before your parents send out a search party,” Sarah chuckled.

“What time is it?” I asked.

Sarah checked her watch. “Ten-fifteen.”

“Yep, search party,” cracked Mary Ellen.

We all piled into Sarah’s roadster. She put the top up and turned on the heater, which was good, because it was freezin’.

Jason and Mary Ellen fell asleep in the back seat. I sat up front as Sarah drove. She glanced over at me.

“Tired?”

“A little.” I smiled ruefully. “We’re early to bed, early to rise kinda folks.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Sarah slowed down a little as a squirrel dashed across the road. “Zarabeth took a shine to Mary Ellen.”

I chuckled. “My sister either instantly rubs people the wrong way or endears herself just as fast. Depends on the people.”

“That’s a sharp observation.”

I felt proud. “Well, anybody keeps their eyes open, they’ll see the same things.”

“You’d be surprised how many people look but don’t see.”

I thought about that. “Huh, guess you’re right.”

She shifted gears. “What did you think about my students?” When I didn’t answer right away, she smiled. “It’s okay, John. Your observations won’t get back to them. What’s your writer’s opinion?”

I blew out a breath. “Okay. Zarabeth is a lot like Mary Ellen, brash and opinionated. She’s not the type to take kindly to what ‘a woman’s place’ is supposed to be.” 

“Mmm hmm.”

All right, so Sarah wasn’t going to give her opinions until I was finished.

“Evelyn is pretty earnest and a little prickly. She seemed really interested in the movies.” I crossed my arms. “Randall, well, he comes across as kind of superior.” Sarah did crack a smile at this comment. “I’m not sure what he thought about the movies. Maybe he thinks Hollywood movies aren’t worth studying?”

“Possibly.”

“Finally, Bob is real friendly and doesn’t seem too caught up with what’s supposed to be acceptable and what isn’t. He seemed to have an honest opinion about things.”

“Well, you’re right about Bob. He’s pretty genuine. A lot of Harvard guys have silver spoons that prevent them from getting out of their uppercrust boxes.”

“Interesting observation, Professor.”

She laughed. “Touche, John.” 

I yawned. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m getting tired myself.”

“Would you like to spend the night?”

“Oh, no, I can drive all right. Fortunately, we don’t start for home ‘til around ten tomorrow.”

“Well, just be sure.”

“I’m sure.” She glanced over at me. “I wouldn’t go into too much detail on the movies. The vagaries of the undead might not go over well with your parents.”

“I know. I already warned Jason and Mary Ellen.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to become _persona non grata_ at your house.”

“You never would be with Grandpa.”

She laughed. “I can always depend on Zeb.”

“Very much.”

We were quiet the rest of the way. Once we reached the Mountain, Sarah drove us to our house and we roused Jason and Mary Ellen. The house was dark. Everybody had gone to bed long ago.

“Good night, Waltons,” Sarah said merrily, and she drove off to our chorus of goodnights.

“Remember, play down the details of the movies, “ I warned. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Mary Ellen yawned.

“You mess up, sister dear, and there’s no more trips with Professor Simmons.”

She waved me off and went inside the house. The screen door creaked but Jason caught it before it slammed. We looked at each other and shook our heads.

Somehow we managed to get ready for bed without waking the whole house. The three of us whispered our goodnights and went to our rooms. I climbed into bed, feeling pretty tired.

I couldn’t fall asleep right away, though. I ran over the evening and knew it would provide fodder in the days ahead for stories galore. Tonight, though, I’d go over what I’d seen and heard and drift off to sleep. My horizons had been expanded, and I appreciated the chance Sarah had given me.

I fell asleep to the sound of moaning wind and dreams of dark castles and bright marquees.


End file.
